Totentanz
by windstruck07
Summary: 3-shot. They were sworn enemies, each with a goal of their own. She left the sanctuary of the heavens to fuflill her destiny. He betrayed his kinsmen from hell to redeem himself. One fateful meeting sentences them to a dangerous fate, spanning heaven and hell and shattering the boundaries betwixt good and evil to heights and depths that will change the worlds forever. (JxE) AU
1. Chapter 1

Hi guys. While writing, my latest chapter for another Jelsa multi-fic I was writing, Mr. Inspiration suddenly took over my mind and brainwashed my hand into writing something different for a change. Nox Arcana's Blood of Angels album and the DmC games are partly to blame. I was all "why not do another forbidden love cliché and make it unique?" and bam! This short story was born.

I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. ^^

**Disclaimer: I do not own ROTG, Frozen, or Devil May Cry. **

… … …

Pillars of black and red metal scrape the dark evening sky. All was both still and unstill, the obscure hum and howl of the night creatures resonating through every nook and cranny of the City of Pestilence. In one area, through the deepest darkest corners of the heart of the city along the streets that held abandoned steam factories, crumbling buildings, and twisted pipes and spires, a demon wails and gurgles its last breath as a snow white blade of ice sliced through whatever that was left of its hideous body.

_KADSKLDSAOJAWIHFNPSIAHFWJSAC!_

A tall young lad… or so he appeared to be, twirled the broadsword he held in his hand and smirked. Cold air fogged from his nostrils as he glared down at the miserable creature with his ice-blue eyes. His teeth gleamed against the darkness in sinful beauty, meaning to add insult to the devil's bitter end. Through the dying demon's eyes, the image of a young man that radiated beauty and danger forever engraved his wavering memory.

"Sorry old fella…" he murmured in mock sincerity, his voice like silver mist both cruel and soothing. "Looks like you'll be taking an early vacation to the lower realms. Send me a postcard while you're at it."

His fallen enemy did not answer back.

The lad let out a playful boyish laugh. Though it sounded nonchalant and carefree, the eerie green light of the lamp post and the cold winds made the sound of his baritone voice echo through the streets in a haunted manner, sending chills to the lower demons' spines.

_Trudge, trudge, trudge…._

There was a conceited gait to his pace as he walked across the narrow alley. Maybe it was the fact that he had faced these kinds of settings before, or that he was a being who favored anarchy that the lovely sight before him did nothing to unsettle. He wiped the blood off his ink blue leather coat as he sheathed his broad sword on the scabbard secured on his back. He used his other hand to rake his piano fingers across his silvery mop of hair, before licking the non-existent blood off his thumb out of habit. Taking one long stride over the dead demon beneath him, a being that looked like a cross between an iguana and a dragon-fly, he walked towards the dark alleyway where his fallen enemy emerged. His lips began to form a small 'o', whistling just to amuse himself and fully aware that the 'Sweet Caroline' tune he was whistling was terribly off-key.

Smoke and sulfur clouded his line of vision as he pressed further into the darkness, away from the faint green light of the lamp from the streets behind him. Every once in a while, his booted foot would crunch against tetra packs, or tin cans, or foil packets… or the more disgusting ones like vomit or ooze. There was a funky stench that greeted him when he turned a corner, followed by an interesting mixture of feces, urine, garbage, bile, and blood which made him scrunch his nose a little. Hand prints of murky blue, green, and red painted the bricked walls of the buildings surrounding him, and at times, creatively drawn or written vandalisms of cuss words and vulgar images peeked through his peripheral vision whenever the faint light caught on it.

Strangely, he felt the urge to snicker upon seeing his name on another wall when he turned another corner. It was written largely across the black bricks in silver and blue, the paint possibly made from the blood of a heavenly being (or so he assumed, for the blood sort of smelled nice, or it might have been some fancy scented paint. He wasn't sure) saying that he was, and he quoted in his head "a damned bastard of a demon".

He raised his brows and whistled.

"Am I supposed to be insulted by this?" he snickered to himself. "That's… pitifully lame."

Before having time to formulate another question, a sound from behind his shoulder, somewhere between a hiss and a roar, zoomed towards his direction. He did not even flinch when he expertly drew the sword from his back in one swift motion and slew the monster that attacked him like how a batter hit his homerun. A pained and anguished cry reverberated through the dark alley, waking nocturnal creatures from their slumber as flocks fled their places and dotted the pitch black sky in darker spots of black and blue. Purple blood rained over him, some drops steaming over his hair and coat. He made an expression as if he was about to gag, but then his lips quickly formed into the crooked grin he was known for, followed by an annoyed groan when a splotch of purple fell on his black boot. He tried to shake off the sticky fluid, but it clung to him like liquid gum.

"Aw crud! This leather is expensive! #%# !" he grumbled loudly, taking out a black cloth from his inner vest to wipe the splat of demon blood off his boot. "Does it always have to be like this? Damn it!"

He felt an uncharacteristic cold air behind him, instantly feeling the presence of another demon ranking higher than him.

"Perhaps it's time to pay another visit to Lilith's Laundromat, Frost?"

He glared at the darkness found at the end of the alleyway and cursed some more, knowing that despite the absence of light at the far end, his demon eyes recognized the dark presence that loomed about, someone finding humor in his predicament.

"Screw you Kozmo!" he hissed, pointing an accusing finger at the presence he sensed. "I know it's you, you pansy dolt!"

A blood curdling chuckle answered him to his annoyance.

"Come out before I shove a mace up your ass!"

A tall dark figure emerged from the darkness seeming to be made of shadows with shoulders slightly shaking with glee. His razor sharp teeth gleamed in the light and his gold to silver eyes narrowed with pleasure upon seeing his least favorite demon in the world. He snapped his fingers and the shadows receded into nothingness, letting a little bit more light from the streets on both sides illuminate the complex alleyway that had once been the demon lad's dim path. The dark figure's features became more prominent, displaying ash-tinted skin and pointed black hair. The ends of his shadow cloak dragged behind him like a velvet cloak, and a faint ghostly hiss echoed through the walls while he approached the younger demon.

"And a pleasure seeing you too Jackson Frost," the shadow man grinned. "Tell me… how many more of your kin had you slaughtered with your own hands tonight?"

The Shadow Man's presence often intimidated most of the demons who ranked lower than him. But the younger demon was never daunted by his presence. In contrast, in spite of Jackson Overland's Frost distrust towards his own kind, the demon before him was the only other being he could ever consider coming close to a friend.

"More than your pea-sized noggin can count Pitch." Jack snorted arrogantly as he wiped the fresh blood off of his coat aloofly. "Told you I could kill a dozen with my hands tied behind my back."

Kozmotis Pitchiner the Shadow Demon shook his head from side to side, "You used your ice voodoo on the poor devils. That's hardly fair."

Jack tilted his head to the side and counted with his fingers, "They had fangs, poison, fire powers, wings, and smoking hot succubus chicks to try to lure me to my death. What I did was hardly unfair."

The snow-haired demon bent down and bit his thumb before drawing intricate symbols on the grimy ground. He fought to roll his eyes and smile in spite of himself. It had been five decades since he last saw his… friend, for lack of better description. He didn't know what Pitch was to him, and he guessed that the same went for the older demon before him.

"_And _stop calling my spells 'voodoo'. Gosh that sounds so lame…" he clicked his tongue while continuing his work.

"You are an A-class demon, Frost." Pitch rolled his eyes as he glided across him while waving him off, "Most of the kinsmen you've killed tonight are ranked amongst the likes of insects and worms." He turned slightly to the white haired demon with a mocking stare. "They're hardly any challenge."

Jack narrowed his eyes at Pitch and snorted. "Those were A-class demons I killed, Pitch. I could feed lower class demons to Toothless without wasting my time."

The Shadow Demon widened his eyes in mock surprise and made no effort to hold back his laughter.

"Shut up you old fart." Jack hissed as he sheathed his sword and conjured a spell circle beneath him. The blue light from the circle instantly vaporized the caked blood that stained his hair, skin, and clothes, and threw another accusing glance at his unlikely companion. "Aren't you supposed to be turning me in because I'm killing my own kind now?"

Pitch raised an amused brow before turning his back on the winter demon.

"I could if I was sane," Pitch murmured wickedly. "But since you believe I am demented, and I enjoy a little social disorder every once in a while, I'll pretend that I saw nothing tonight." The demon laughed slightly and threw a contorted grin in amusement. "Funny how demons are so adamant about social order after a thousand years. Makes me think we're trying to imitate the angels now. Bah!"

"You're acting like an angel by turning a blind eye on my killing spree, evil sandman." Jack snickered humorlessly. "I'd say you're beginning to turn your lot in with them."

"Watching the demonic monarchy going maniacal over a traitorous brat is worth the watch." The Shadow Demon grinned, raising a brow as if meaning to taunt Jack and failing. "Besides… have you ever seen a demon who doesn't enjoy a wee bit of chaos every once in a while?"

Jack huffed and made a cocky smirk as he slowly walked away, "You always say that old man."

"Angel, demon, man… I do not care what color or race you have to kill." Pitch hummed soberly. "So long as there is fear in the picture, I do not mind."

Jack snorted, "You and your obsession with fear." He shrugged, "Personally I think fear is kindah overrated."

"Careful Frost…" Pitchiner chortled. "A touch of fear in your system might make you eat those words."

The winter demon half-smiled. "No need." He paused a moment, his face blank and solemn. "I've no reason to fear anything anymore." And he finally turned his back on Pitch.

Silence ensued as both demons began to part ways. The air was thin and reeking of smoke and other unsavory fragrances, but such a stench was common in the Netherealm. If not the rancid odor of demon excretes, it would be the smell of the blood of demons' victims, man and angel alike.

But lately the Dark Realms reeked of a different pong of blood. For the past two years, the death toll of demons from all classes had sky-rocketed dramatically, filling the Netherealm with pools of gore and death. At first the demons of high ranking thought that the angels have infiltrated the Netherealm in spite of their 500 year truce… but recent rumors had spread that the killer had come from one of their own.

Jack knew the truth behind those rumors, because he knew that the rumours were true.

Three hundred years ago, he was no different from the Tormenters whose aim was to destroy mankind. He took wicked satisfaction in watching men bathe in blood, women suffer in slavery, and children cower in fear. He was responsible for countless deaths in the winter season, and among the higher ranks, he was a major contributor to man's immense death toll.

They dubbed him the Winter Plague, for he came quietly like a thief in the night. If there was one piece of mercy he granted his victims, if one considered it mercy at all, was that he would end their lives quickly in one strike… not because he pitied them, but because he was too lazy to do the torturing himself. He'd rather watch a man die slowly in the hands of another, or be a spectator to a woman brutally assaulted for her chastity before withering away. He would never find entertainment in watching children die slowly though… and he would reason out that watching the death of a child was as boring as watching worms copulating.

Aside from that, Jackson Overland Frost was just as cruel as any demon there was.

But it all changed on one unlikely night, when he was assigned to eliminate a Night Fury no more than twenty years old.

_Don't! Don't kill Toothless… please… no, no, no, no…._

The birth of a Night Fury, the unholy offspring of lightning and death, the legendary black dragon was a threat to the demon race, as their kind unlike others would not heed to the higher ranks. Their power could destroy the very Demon King himself, if given the time to age for a thousand years more. Lucien could not risk the existence of the baby dragon to destroy his eternal reign.

Thus, Jackson Overland Frost, the most daring hunter of the demonic race, was given the assignment to destroy it.

_Don't kill him!_

He closed his eyes and restrained from grimacing at the memory. Cold sweat trickled from his scalp down to his chin while his hands slightly trembled. Nothing unsettled Jack Frost but that one memory, and for a long time now, he had mastered burying the images of his past within the deepest darkest depths of his heart and mind. Taking a deep breath, Jack willed himself to shut out the image of a brown haired boy with his frightened green eyes. He battled the memory of the lad no more than fifteen years old, placing himself between the dragon and the demon, with an arm extended towards him in plea.

A storm raged outside the small cottage, and fire burned whatever that was left of their property. An auburn haired man and a brunette woman who took resemblance with the boy lay dead by the porch, blood and oil staining the planks and black murky ice coating the posts and ceilings. The baby dragon behind the human lad hissed in pain as inky fluid gushed out of the gaping wound a few inches near its jugular. A few hours more and it would lose blood if it were a regular dragon. But this was no ordinary spawn of the devil.

_Don't kill him, please…_

It was too late to eliminate the memory.

_I beg you! Don't kill him! K-k-kill me instead…_

Jack remembered the shameless tears and snot that dribbled down the boy's eyes and nose, using his own wounded body to shield his scaly friend from the white demon who killed his family. The teenager's eyes were bloodshot with fear, but his shaky legs stood its ground, refusing to yield to the horrifying presence of the very person who took everything away from him. He recalled his tattered clothes, stained with sweat, oil and blood, clinging to his body like secondary skin as he struggled to stand. His voice was garbled and hoarse, but despite the struggle for air, the lad used whatever was left of his might to scream out his plea.

_Kill me instead… kill me instead… kill me instead…_

He remembered the young man's bravery amidst the terror of losing everything he had, everything he hoped for, everything he held dear… to protect the black baby dragon responsible for his demise.

He didn't understand. Jack's eyes might have been blank, and his lips might have been pursed in a hard line of indifference that night… but inwardly a war raged within him while he held his sword high and ready to kill.

How could a human want to protect a demon?

A few seconds more, and Jack wold have dropped his sword in uncertainty. For the first time in forever… a demon lost the will to destroy.

And Lucien would have Jack Frost's head.

_Kill me instead!_

He killed the lad with one swift slash of his sword.

_Don't kill Toothless._

It was the first time he ever regretted killing anyone as soon as the baby dragon roared a loud cry of sorrow.

_Don't kill my best friend._

He spared the dragon's life that day and took it as his own. For years and years, the wide fearful eyes of the young lad he killed haunted him. He killed, and killed, and killed, and harvested as many souls of evil men and women as much as he could to rub the memory away. He tried to justify his belief that men deserved to be destroyed for their fickle nature…

He tried to find rhyme and reason to why he killed the boy and spared the life of the demon he was sent to destroy. He tried to understand as he raised the dragon in secret, willing himself to apprehend what the lad saw in the creature's eyes.

And there in the eyes of the Night Fury… he saw the same eyes of the boy he killed.

And Jack's view towards mankind…. changed.

"_I don't see the point of taking their lives anymore, Kozmo."_

"_A demon with a conscience? I could mistake you for an angel."_

"_Shut up."_

Through the dragon's eyes he saw the truth of the corruption of demons, not that he hadn't known of their corruption from the start… But he had understood the injustice of what his race had inflicted upon a race that extended kindness towards his own. Sometimes he thought himself demented whenever he laughed towards the night sky of how twisted his new convictions have influenced him. Pitch was right to say that he thought like an angel for even having a conscience… but every time he reasoned out that it was the only way he could put the boy's memory to the grave. To make matters worse, raising Toothless had become both his blessing and curse, for the dragon's eyes and fire would forever haunt him of the boy who begged to spare the creature's life. The boy who would have had the chance to grow and find a woman and bear children… the boy who would have died of old age to smile upon a life well lived…

He took the boy's future away with one strike of the sword.

Never before had Jackson Frost resent being one with the darkness. And the only way he could ease the torture of the lad's memory… was to slaughter the race that vowed to destroy the one thing that boy swore to protect.

_Protect Toothless… protect Toothless… please…_

He was the traitor. The demon who hunted demons. The devil who took the side of the humans.

"I have to warn you though Frost," the Shadow Demon said before Jack had walked too far.

The Winter Demon paused and looked back at his unlikely companion over his shoulder.

"Lucien is on to you," Kozmotis Pitchiner said grimly. "Once his suspicions are confirmed, don't expect me to lend a helping hand."

"I know." Jack answered before he vanished into cold blue vapor.

… … …

"This man named… Haddock," the angel murmured. "He died at the hands of a demon… to save a demon?"

The angel wrapped in pure white light let out a thoughtful breath as she scanned the contents of the Scrolls of Elda. Being the child of one of the Archangels of Tsar, she was blessed with the gift of Sight, a power that allowed her to see visions of the past, present, and future. And her clairvoyance had told her that a future beholds her within the writings of the Scrolls of Elda which kept records of the things that passed, her eyes falling on one of the most momentous events in the history of mankind.

"Why would the son of Haddock risk his life for a dragon?" she murmured to herself. "Aren't dragons the ones who tried to kill his ancestors?"

She shook her head as she rolled the scroll close and sighed. She craned her neck and stood from her perch across the marble couch and stretched her arms. Peering up at the everlasting sky with eyes that were as blue as the morning heavens, she whispered a silent prayer of inquiry but found no answer. She surveyed the large roofless library, watching as the vines and flowers spiralled upward to catch drops of dew that fell from the unknown heights. She bit her lower cherry lip and inhaled, fixing the wrinkles of her tunic to distract herself from the confusions that gnawed at her mind, if only a little.

She found it hard understanding what the sacrifice of one young lad for another demon would relate to her future. Firstly she was taught that demons were her kin's enemies, coming from a line of rebellious angels who fell to the Netherealm after waging war against Tsar. She was taught to see them as evil, as a threat to the humans that the angels were sworn to protect. She even took an oath in her eighteenth year to destroy any demon she saw on sight, before it was given a chance to inflict evil upon men.

But why would a human risk his life for a demon whose sole purpose was to destroy them? She didn't understand. And to seek answers about the event would only lead her to further ruin. She had tried asking her father Uriel, even her mother Shaina, and she was sure as day that her little sister Anna would know none of it. The story of the Son of Haddock's death was taboo, and those who knew of the story dared not speak a word about it.

But their foreboding did not quench her thirst for knowledge. If anything, she was calm as a river and collected as the nocturnal forest. But her will was as relentless and strong as the walls that protected the Heavenly realms. No matter what the cost, she was determined to get the answers.

Unfurling her wings, she let the crisp and clean air whisk her away from the Lexicon to the fluffy clouds above. Her braided platinum hair whipped about her as she spun, her sparkling white tunic flailing about and exposing a little of her creamy skin of legs and arms. Decency wasn't much of an issue in the Heavenly Courts, for the angels' thoughts were pure, and she knew enough not to fly like a wild bird when any male eye is present to see her unkempt as she was now.

Her laughter echoed through the vast expanse of sky, music to the ears of every areal creature that encountered her. Her wings sparkled like glitter, yet at the same time appeared soft to the touch, flapping mightily against the strong winds of the East. A smile graced her lips as she dove, feeling the wind whip against her heart-shaped face as pictures of the sky islands became clear in her line of vision

Beneath her was the Fleurdelis, a mighty palace of gold and silver that housed the mightiest angels of the Heavenly Realms. Its towers were made of bricks of white and blue gemstones, and its walls were of gold and platinum silver. Its streets were also that of gold, and rivers ran not across the ground, but everywhere, like aerial rivers that flowed through the eternal sky. Trees and plants of every kind embellished every side, its leaves, flowers, and fruits glowing against the light in a myriad of bright and pastel hues. Globes of light hovered across the skies, surrounded by smaller lights that twinkled like the stars, and cherubs flew from across her, greeting her with a reverend curtsey.

Every time she gazed upon her home, a smile often played across her face. The Fleurdelis and its people embodied everything she believed in: faith, hope, and love, and to gaze upon it was enough to soothe the wary soul. This was the place where she wanted to stay forever, for it was both her refuge and strength. This was Home.

She swooped down towards the particular turret that cradled her chambers, and soon found herself entering her room through her window. She folded her wings until they dissolved into her body in icy blue light before pausing to gaze upon the sanctuary that was her room one last time.

One last time... For the Sight told her that the Fleurdelis in all its peacefulness and beauty was not her place. She did not want to leave... But she must.

An angel gifted with The Sight was often hunted by the Demon King, for those with The Sight foresaw what deceptions and malevolence the darkness often plotted against the salvation of mankind. And though her father claimed that the Archangels were powerful enough to shield her from every evil offense, she was positive that her stay would bring chaos and ruin to the one place she called Home.

She must leave, swiftly and quietly. It was the only way to keep her family safe.

_Toc, toc, toc..._

"Elsa?" she heard her sister through her ivory door. "Elsa, are you there?"

She kept her mouth shut, fighting the tears that stung her eyes as she began sealing the things she needed within the marks made of light across her body. Her footsteps were light as a feather, and she was known for her excellent ability to stay unnoticed. But somehow her little sister Anna would always be able to sense her presence. No matter how careful or quiet, Anna would always know she was there. She guessed that it was probably because she was her sister, for it was the same thing with Anna for her. She would also sense her little sister's presence, not only because her sister was clumsy as a troll… but because she just simply knew she would be there. It was a sister thing perhaps…

Leaving her tore her apart more than she'd care to admit.

"Elsa you've been gone all morning," Anna murmured timidly from outside her room. She could her the longing in her voice, accentuated by the tapping of a fingernail against the wood of the enchanted door. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Are you okay?"

She spoke no word, biting her lips as she stood facing the large open window. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, fighting the urge to open the door and welcome her in… for the purpose of saying goodbye.

But she knew herself well. If she granted herself that small chance to see her sister, she might find a thousand more reasons to stay.

She squared her shoulders and took another deep breath. With a determined resolve, she summoned her magnificent wings and looked to the big window that beckoned her departure.

Once she flies out of her tower, there was no turning back.

"Elsa?"

Elsa, angel of winter light took a deep breath as a lone tear fell down her smooth left cheek. It would have been easier if Anna was out of the picture. The year she had known she possessed The Sight and The Cold, she was forced to withdraw from her Anna, much to her little sister's dismay. There were countless risks to be too closely attached to one such as her, for Lucien was cunning and devious and would have his way one way or another. Her only comfort was that once the Legion of Angels won the Millennial War, she would have no reason to be despondent from Anna anymore.

She loved her parents, true, but she loved Anna more so. There came a time when all of her secrets were Anna's and all of Anna's secrets were hers. She once shared in her laughter and her tears, and she was willing to trade it all, The Sight, The Flight, The Cold, if only to spend more time with her.

But The Sight told her it cannot be.

"Good bye Anna."

When Anna was able to crank open her door, her sister had already gone. No letter was left to explain her sudden departure, but a glittery feather remained on top of a glass table to prove that the one gifted with The Sight had been there.

As Elsa flew farther and farther, lost in the vast expanse of the eternal sky wherein she dwelled, her mind raced back to the texts she read, trying to avoid the memories that gnawed at her homesick heart. She swallowed the heavy lump in her throat, and fought more tears that tried to betray her. She flapped her wings with all the might she could muster and refused to look back, gritting her teeth in determination as she began to embark on her journey alone.

"For Anna, for Anna, for Anna…" she chanted to herself. "For Anna, for Anna, for Anna…"

To know her future was her mission, for the one gifted with The Sight possessed the key to defeating Lucien once and for all. It was a mission she was destined to face on her own, and win or lose, she vowed to face the dangers alone to protect the ones she loved.

To understand the unknown future that beholds her, she must seek the unspoken answers found in the Scrolls of Elda. The mystery behind the death of the Son of Haddock untold by the Archangels who raised and taught her.

She knew where she could find the answers, and it was a gamble that could risk her life. But it was a gamble she was willing to take, if only to find refuge in the arms of her family once again. She knew she must fulfill her duty as one gifted with The Sight, to protect not only the Heavenly Realms, but the Realm of Mankind as well.

Elsa knew where to find the answers: and she can only find them from the demon who killed the Son of Haddock.

… … …

Jack stopped his tracks as he approached a dark alley. Unlike the place where he last killed hundreds of demons from thirteen nights ago, this one was much darker. Cleaner, yes, but much... much… darker.

The City of Promiscuity was a place of man's most wicked perversions. It was a place where the most prominent and powerful demons came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the Dark Realms. The very air that permeated the city was as potent as the most powerful aphrodesiacs, often rendering lower demons at their wits end. Most of its citizens were either succubi or incubi, the skies populated by harpies, and whatever one would make of as forests filled with Naga or Dark Nymphs. The lack of people in the city square heightened the howls and moans of sensuality and lust that rebounded from the hidden lasciviousness of every house and inn. Its buildings were made from ebony and ivory, pointed high and scraping the sky like old gothic towers, and every night (and it was always night, for not a single morning would ever grace the Netherealm) a chorus of fleshly delight resonated through every depth, awakening desire even from those who were but a hairsbreadth away from the city walls.

It was every demon's favourite city.

Once or twice, a succubus would approach the winter demon, offering their bodies for his leisure. Jack was known not only for his hunting abilities, but for his eerily handsome exterior as well. He was a demon posing the image of a striking young man, and any she-devil or male demon alike wanted the eternal youth that the winter devil possessed. No demon from every city would pass the opportunity to get into the devil's pants.

Jack had his fair share of whores to bed. Over a hundred in his lifetime, but quite few in comparison to demons his age. He took the company of women as no more than an occasional past time, finding greater glory of having fresh blood coating his hands in battle than the warmth of a naked woman beside him. Demons did not believe in romantic attachments, believing that the union of man and woman was but a mere obligation to reproduce, and an activity to augment the carnal need for release.

A she-devil with red hair and glowing jade eyes approached him in a predatory romp. Her scantily clad body promised what every hot-blooded male dreamed of, circling the smug winter demon as if to sell herself willingly to the man before him.

"Jackson Frost," the woman purred, surrounding the man like a vulture. "What brings you to this side of the Netherealm sweeting?"

Without blinking his eyes, Jack found the woman already embracing him from behind in an instant, wantonly pressing her body against his back while a manicured nail traced the line of his jaw. An inexperienced young man would have shuddered with delight at the feel of a soft luscious body pressed against him, but Jack was no inexperienced man. In fact, the feel of the woman behind him felt like a soft cushion instead of fleshly warmth. None of the pretty women excited him like they used to anymore, becoming Pitch's object of mockery and question over his sexuality.

Jack huffed a small laugh of humor at the thought. He inwardly reminded himself to bed another female demon and take her severed head after doing the deed to prove his point that he was straight.

"Perhaps… a good f***?" she cooed by his ear. He noted how the woman deliberately pressed her nearly nude breast against his back, as if it would arouse him. Indeed she was beautiful, but Jack had seen more attractive demons in his lifetime.

This was the fifth succubus that tried to offer herself to him that night. Of course, being adept in discerning the hidden intents behind feminine wiles of demons, he knew better not to be receptive of their adorations whether or not they turned him on. If anything, it filled him with a huge sense of pride that even in more than three centuries of his existence, he still had that edge with the ladies even if he didn't try.

"Sorry doll. I'm not exactly in the mood." He turned around and snaked his arms around the she-devil's waist. His blue eyes glowed like sapphire orbs against white talc, peering down at the lush woman in his arms with a predatory smile that mirrored his intent. "But maybe one sloppy wet kiss wouldn't hurt now, would it?"

The she-devil answered him with a fanged cat-like grin before lifting her head to meet his lips… and draw the life-force out of him.

But before her lips met his, a blood-red dagger was already buried deep within her torso. Her once beautiful face morphed into its true form, fangs elongating and drawing blood, and eyes dilating and slanting like that of a cross between a snake's and a cat's. Jack pulled out the dagger, licking the blade slowly while maintaining eye-contact with his latest kill before she fell lifelessly on the ground like a rag doll.

"_Stay away from me!"_

Gurgling sounds and wicked laughter echoed from the far end of the alley. Jack's sharp sense of hearing concluded around five class B demons circling the intruder hidden at ten o' clock from his current position. There weren't many demons around the area, as that area of the City of Promiscuity was like a ghost town, with only the most debauched and wayward spirits locked within the buildings to fulfil their bodily wants and needs.

He raised a brow, and a curious smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

What was a female angel doing in the Netherealm?

He gazed upon the fallen state of his latest victim and cast a freezing spell on it. He knew better that succubi were hard to kill with one strike, so he froze the she-devil before she had the chance to seek revenge. He then sprinted to the alley where he heard the voices. From the sounds of it, a conflict ensued between five demons and one angel judging by the gargled roars and feminine screams that resonated from his destination. He also sensed a mild spark of power clashing against an opposing force, and he knew that the angel might have been skilled enough to cloak the feel of her life stream from the common demon's eye. Unfortunately for her, demons from B class and beyond were not as stupid, and she chose to visit the City of Promiscuity where powerful demons usually dwelled at that. Jack thought it was stupid of her to gamble with spirits of his kind.

Yet for some reason, the presence of a heavenly being in the Netherealm excited him. There were talks spreading around the Dark Realms that killing an angel would raise a demon's ranks to the S class, granting them powers that could equal that of King Lucien himself. And for a while now, Jack had been training himself to reach that rank as the peak of his quest to redeem himself. Once he reaches the S class, he would be powerful enough to defeat Lucien, the strongest and most wicked demon of them all. His end would mark the end of the demon race, and Jack would make sure that the last demon to remain would be the dragon he spared in honor of the man who risked his life for his own kind. He'd be willing to destroy every demon there was, may it be Pitch or himself, but not the dragon. And he was willing to grab every opportunity he could to lead him closer to his goal.

An opportunity presented itself now.

"_Stay away from me!"_

When Jack reached his destination, the scene he found both shocked and amused him.

He found five shur drows and blood suckers impaled on jagged spikes of blue ice. The three iron walls that cornered the dark alley were covered in frost, creeping from the bottom to the top like floral swirls, and at the centre of the area, cowering in fear like a wailing child, was a young woman dressed in white, with platinum blonde hair braided messily over her shoulder, and skin that was as pure as snow. She buried her face in her hands, holding back sobs and screams, and her large glamorous wings enveloped her like a shield. Glittery feathers scattered across the once dirty ground, now covered in ice, and flurries of snowflakes drifted through the air, being the aftermath of the battle that ensued before he came.

How… curious…

Jack cocked his head and looked at her with silent awe. It was the first time he ever saw a female angel up close. The last angel he ever encountered was an Archangel named Uriel, and their meeting had been one of his most favourite battles up to date. The man was ruthless and cunning, and if not for luck on his side, Jack would have been eternally dead.

The angel looked up and flinched as soon as she saw him. Though the first thought that registered unto her were the words 'beautiful' and 'captivating', she knew better that the alluring demons were often the most dangerous ones. Her blue eyes assessed him from his boots up to his snow white hair, cautiously studying him and discerning his possible intentions as she heightened her guard. By the looks of it, she was relieved that the demon clad in black and blue leather showed no signs of knowing she possessed The Sight. It was imperative that she kept her gifts a secret, for fear that the higher ranking demons might find her and deliver her to the Demon King. And judging by the young man's intimidating stare and insulting smile, plus the dark and cold aura that loomed about his very existence, he was among the higher ranks.

There were a few daggers secured by his thighs, and two guns holstered by his hips. She guessed that the glowing marks she saw in his body through The Sight was a seal that hid a powerful weapon within his life stream. But even without the aid of his weapons, Elsa knew that this man was capable of killing her with his bare hands. She pressed herself harder against the wall to her back when he began a dangerously relaxed pace towards her direction. As his foot crunched against the ice floor she had conjured, darker blue frost crept from the soles of his boots, polluting her magic with his own as he neared her inch by perilous inch.

Elsa placed both her hands on the ground and eyed him warily, feeling the ground beneath her as she clenched her fists to convince herself that she would not back down from a fight. She folded her legs against her chest as she allowed her wings to flap once, then twice to threaten him. But she was cautious enough not to make a sound or cause a whirlwind, hoping that no other demon had sensed her presence with the power she had already used.

"What's a heavenly being like you doing in a godforsaken place like this?" the winter demon asked her with clear interest. His stunning blue eyes glinted against the faint lights like a warning beacon. He continued towards her in a conceited manner, as if to show-off the danger he possessed. If Elsa was fazed by him, she didn't let it show in spite of her fear.

"Stay back!" she warned. Her voice shook slightly, but the anger in it did not waver.

Jack answered her by laughing, "Or what?"

"Or you'll turn out like they did!" Elsa threatened him as she pointed towards the demons she had impaled with her magic.

"Yes I can see that." The winter demon whistled, rubbing one hand against the back of his neck and the other planted casually on the side of his hip. The angel watched the hand by his hip warily for it was so close to the gun handle protruding from the opening of his cloak. "But I'm not exactly a fan of death by impaling ya know? I'm more of the hack and slash killing type… or maybe beheading because… hey, you know, beheading is kinda cool."

Elsa's eyes widened with dread at how he casually described murder like an everyday hobby. She fought the chill that ran her spine when he laughed. It was a sound both musical and enticing, but it also hinted that he was strong enough to destroy her.

"What? I'm a demon. We're trained to be creative with the way we kill." Jack said with raised brows as if to answer her unspoken question. "Although I'm not really as artsy as the others. You see, these guys—" he pointed to the demons Elsa killed, "—kill their victims after they have their way with them. You know… man, woman, or child—"he edged closer to her as he spoke his next words with a malevolent grin sketching his handsome face, "—they don't give a damn what or who you are. They are demons of the City of Promiscuity you see… and death by rape is obviously their best talent."

He took satisfaction at seeing the angel visibly shudder at his words. At the same time, he was surprised that she only threw a more threatening glare at him even more, sensing the power that gathered by her fists should he make a wrong move. It seemed she was foolish enough to stay her ground instead of fleeing, and as far as he knew, angels were capable of flying at lightning speeds. If anything, she would have been able to flee from him now?

"I said stay back!" she commanded, extending an arm to shoot a large stream of power in his direction. Jack merely took one small side step and avoided her attack without breaking a sweat.

He could see that the air of the city was making her weak.

Jack was surprised that she made no effort to fix the rip in her tunic by her left shoulder, exposing the pearly whiteness of her shoulder and the top of her breast. As far as the stories provided him, he had always known that angels were so adamant about decency. And seeing this particular angel's thighs, arms and shoulders so utterly exposed in the presence of a man… and a demon man at that was… very dangerous.

He could only allow himself a conceited and perverted smirk.

"Shame that it's not your clothes I'll be tearing apart."

Elsa had no time to react when she found herself pressed up against the wall in a blink of an eye, with her sandwiched between the iron wall behind her and the winter demon before her. For some inexplicable reason, her wings had retreated inside her body and she felt panic bubble from within her gut as she stared at the man whose face was a mere breath away from hers. His thigh was lodged between her legs to hold her up against the wall, her arms locked uselessly behind her and her hair held in an iron grip by the demon's left hand. She found herself helpless under his lethal gaze, the blueness of his eyes promising her an ugly death should she make attempts to resist him.

Jack pulled against her hair to angle her face to his gaze, and wicked pride brimmed from the darkest depths of his being as he spotted tears that threatened to betray the angel's steely blue resolve. It impressed him how a war between fear and courage was evident in her expressive blue eyes. He had always believed that angels were beautiful creatures... but there was a beauty to her he couldn't quite describe.

And he took evil satisfaction watching that beauty cower at his mercy.

"How unfortunate that you chose to drop by this city among all places. You must be terribly lost." Jack murmured. His tone was both playful and friendly, but it didn't quite touch the evil intent in his eyes. "Don't worry… you'll have loads of _fun _being in my company. I swear I'll make your accidental road trip here very… _heavenly._"

His cool breath wafted against her nose like ocean mist, and although he smelled _too good _for a demon, the fragrance made her want to gag.

Elsa tried to wriggle herself free, squeezing her eyes shut as she struggled against him. She bit her lower lip to fight the sob that threatened to come out, refusing to give her enemy the satisfaction of triumph. She tried to kick with her limp yet flawless legs, and she pushed her upper body forward in a lame attempt to free her arms. But the man before her was just too strong, and it only encouraged him further as he violently pressed himself against her, knocking her head against the iron wall and letting him feel her body in the intimacy she had never wished to share with any other man. He was far… far… far _too close _for her liking, and every single cell of him spoke imminent death.

"Let me go!" she cried, daring to meet his eyes with all the anger and bravado she could muster.

Jack fought the urge to throw his head back in laughter in amusement. He found it entertaining how the petite little angel in his arms was stupid enough to put up this scene of bravery in spite of how terribly in danger she was of losing both her chastity and life (not that his intention was to rape her anyway, but he was in the City of Promiscuity after all). He bent down and traced her jawline with his lips, chuckling as she cringed with disgust like he was the plague. The taste of her skin surprised him. Unlike the spicy tang he was used to in tasting a woman, her skin tasted sweet and addicting like nectar. It ignited a primal fire within his cold body and he reveled at the feel of it as he continued planting wet kisses on her neck. He heard her breath hitch when he lightly nipped at the flesh where her jaw met her ear, and that was the time he chose to taunt her even further.

"Now, now, sweetheart…" he cooed before planting a soft kiss against the nape of her neck. "I'm trying to make this easy for you. I'm not as merciful as all the others."

"Curse you…" Elsa hissed, choking back a sob as her body tensed. "Curse you to hell!"

He licked the column of her neck from the nape to her jugular in one long stroke before whispering, "We already are in hell baby. I think you need to take a rain check."

"Let me go!" she cried, trying her best to wriggle free. She hated how her voice sounded like she was begging instead of commanding. As an angel, she was raised to answer with authority and power, and for her to sound like a pleading slave to a demon was an intense blow to her pride as a heavenly being.

Jack punished her by yanking her hair so that she faced him directly again. The motion made her cry out in pain to his delight.

"They say a sword puncturing the sheath creates life…" he murmured with glee. He threw his head back to look upon her face and took immense joy when he saw her aghast expression. Her eyes were wide with horror, and she grit her teeth as tears began to trickle down her blossom smooth cheeks. Jack felt something sizzle in the atmosphere as he watched her, suddenly turned on by the ironic beauty that he found in the young woman's sorrow. He could take her right then and there, and lose himself in the pleasure of taking a woman's purity by force. It would have been his first sexual assault, and an angel at that. He might become notorious for committing such a deed. And besides that, the girl had an enchanting beauty about her that he never found in the wild and wicked exquisiteness of the she-devils. Probably because he had never slept with a pure being in all his life, and this being an angel, he assumed that she was virgin.

But then he remembered his goal and quickly regained focus, "but what about a blade penetrating your heart?"

Elsa fought to gasp. Under normal circumstances, she would have been grateful that a demon would choose to end her life quickly instead stealing whatever that was left of her dignity. But this was no normal circumstance, and she had a mission to accomplish. She thrashed and yelled and cried, refusing to give in to the fate the demon wanted to bestow upon her. She willed herself to fight and fight some more, wriggling her body free from the hardness of the wall and his body against hers.

Apparently the angel made the wrong move.

Jack meant his next action to be an attempt to pierce a blade piercing through her chest, or a spell igniting cold hellfire to consume the girl entrapped between him and the iron wall.

Instead, and he didn't know what came over him and why, he bent down his head and kissed her full on the mouth.

"Mmmmf!"

His lips moved against hers roughly, trying to pry her mouth open, and succeeding when she gasped after lightly tracing his tongue across her bottom lip. She squeezed her eyes shut, her system filling with dread at what was happening to her as the demon assaulted her. His grip on his hair tightened, and his other hand began massaging the exposed skin of her thigh aggressively. Tears brimmed down her cheeks as the demon attacked her lips with his own in heated frenzy, and in her panic, she struggled with all the remaining strength she could give to save her from the humiliation of having been groped by an enemy to her race…

She mewled in furious protest as he continued to kiss her, deciding to bite him should he ever attempt to deepen the kiss.

But when his tongue invaded her honey sweet cavern that was the time she lost her self completely.

Elsa felt her will crumble when the demon's movements suddenly became tender. The hand that massaged her thigh moved to snake around her small waist, and the other that held a vice-like grip on her hair now caressed the back of her neck to press her face closer against his. He angled his head to deepen the kiss as his tongue expertly battled to dominate hers, raking across the upper rows of her teeth making her shudder. Such a sensation was alien to the angel and instinctively, Elsa responded shyly with equal fervor, unaware that her arms were now free as she wrapped them timidly around the demon's neck. A musical moan escaped her lips when he slightly retreated his head, but her response suddenly urged Jack to press his lips harder against hers, and the earlier roughness of his advances resumed as he used both hands to press his body more firmly against hers.

_No, no, no, no, no, no…_ the small part of her mind that was still sane berated her. But Elsa was too lost in the sensations… falling prey to the flavor of mint and ocean that his mouth gave her. That small part of her slowly receded to oblivion when a groan reverberated from his lips, and she answered with a moan that was alien to her as her hands found leisure in massaging his snow white hair, which was surprisingly soft to the touch. Their breaths became hitched and frantic as they struggled for air, but both refused to kill the fiery passion that ignited between them in the dance of lips and tongues. What came over them, they didn't know… but both were aware that once either of them ever attempted to gasp for breath… they would regret it… immensely.

Their lips separated with a popping sound, and both struggled for air, greedily inhaling the air they had lost in the light of their fierce passion. Jack was first to regain focus, his eyes turning wide in desbelief at what he had done. It took time before he found the strength to loosen his grip on the girl, especially when he saw her dazed eyes and puffed lips sinfully tainted by his advances. The rosy hue on her cheeks tempted the demon to kiss her again, and perhaps do more.

But this time, self control won.

"F***." Jack cursed.

That was the time Elsa had finally snapped out of her daze, recognizing the gravity and absurdity of both their actions...

What in Tsar's name had she done?

(To be continued...)

... ... ...

May the Fortress be with you...


	2. Chapter 2

Hi guys. Sorry for the incredibly late update. I was supposed to be updating this along with _Child of Winter Solstice _before 2014 ended. But apparently I got busy reading _Every Day _by David Levithan (which is a very good book with an incredibly unique and bittersweet plot. Even better than John Green's _The Fault in Our Stars _in my opinion) I hope you like the second installment to _Totentanz. _I'd also like to thank hydro0228 for some help on the previous chapter. This is for MischevousRose and her friend who recently got hooked to this story. :D

FYI: _Totentanz _means "Dance of Death" in Greek I think. Correct me if I am wrong though.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or Rise of the Guardians. **

… … …

Jack was met with a vengeful knee to the groin.

"F***!"

He glared at the tear-stained eyes of the angel he had recently molested. He had half a mind to think he deserved that, but then again, how was he to care?

The girl looked down upon him with a mixture of guilt and anger. Fighting a smug smile in spite of the pain in his lower regions, he had guessed that the angel had enjoyed his ministrations for a time. He had tainted a spiritual being, and in a demon's book, that was nearly as good as having to kill one.

He would enjoy taking the girl's innocence by force. Every sweet second of it.

Jack knew that the angel had thought this as her opportunity to run. Unfortunately for her, he had cast some sort of magic on her knees, making her crumble to the ground the soonest he took a staggering step back. He winced, surprised that she had so much leg power for a very petite person.

He laughed.

"That was pretty impressive, babe," he chuckled darkly. "I guess you'll enjoy it rough then?"

"You filthy swine!" she cried angrily, trying to wipe away the evidence of his kisses from her lips. "What did you do to me?!"

The demon bent down to cup her chin with his thumb and forefinger, staring at her angry blue resolve with evil satisfaction. Her fringe was all messed up, her cheeks a blazing red, and the tears that stained them only made her look mouthwatering. Jack realized he enjoyed her anger more than her fear. It made her look more alive and more beautiful.

"I told you, we are in the City of Promiscuity," he murmured in a dangerously friendly tone. "The very air of this place reeks of every being's most perverted fantasies."

He took in another deep breath, almost growling with approval when he inhaled her luscious scent. Under different circumstances, this woman would have been the death of him. But how lucky he was that they were in the darkness' territory. In this world, he had the upper hand.

"It only means that you, my dear, aren't really as pure as I thought you are," he grinned wickedly. "You liked the attention I was giving you earlier, didn't you?"

She surprised him by spitting on his face. "You disgust me!"

Jack blinked, wiping the spit from his face. He would have slapped a woman who had done this to him if it was a different situation. But something about the scrunch in her brows or the revulsion in her eyes triggered something akin to want inside of him. Jack almost wanted to laugh at the realization, but he wasn't going to fight it either.

He surprised her by snarling and claiming her lips the second time.

Elsa's eyes went wide, but this time she could not find the strength to resist him. His minty scent had been clouding her senses ever since that first kiss, and it disgusted her to admit that she had been entranced by it. It had nothing to do with the air of the city, but more to do with the way he had expressed such tenderness and care in kissing her despite his roughness. What was hardest to admit was that a curious part of her had wanted to indulge.

She knew that it was wrong on so many levels. He was her enemy. He was meaning to kill her, and she knew he wasn't kidding when he said so.

"Stop…" she managed to say in between his kisses.

He pulled away from her abruptly, his eyes wide and gleaming, his pupils thinned into slits. She stared back dumbly, wary and dizzy from lack of air. Elsa had never felt more helpless in all her life.

Was this to become her fate? To become a victim of a demon's wicked desires?

"You have The Sight."

Her eyes snapped wide open, blood turning cold as a chill crawled down her spine.

_How did he…_

There was accusation in the demon's eyes, and then swift comprehension. Without preamble, he gathered her into his arms in swift motion, carrying her to who knows where. Placing two fingers in his mouth, he let out a sharp whistle and summoned an inky blue power that nearly suffocated the angel by the darkness reeking from it.

_Wooooosh!_

It took three seconds for Elsa's mind to register the fact that she was now a thousand feet above the city. The demon must have used some form of teleportation spell, and the jump from one place to another had left her feeling disoriented. She thought about screaming for help, but then thought better knowing that no help would come for an angel in the Netherealm. Cold air whipped around them, dark murky clouds passing swiftly behind. She found herself shrouded in darkness, but her eyes were sharp enough to catch glimpses of her surroundings.

She found herself lying face down against a hard, scaly surface, and the demon was above her, shielding her in an almost protective manner. His eyes moved rapidly from left to right, as if fearing that they'd be seen, and Elsa couldn't help but strain her eyes better to see where she was or what was happening.

Only when she heard a high-pitched roar did she realize that they were riding on a dragon.

"_KLDFHUAGSKFLSNALRIHASAKLCNDKLVNAEVI!"_

A black dragon. The unholy offspring of lightning and death.

"Stay quiet if you want to live." She heard the demon's deep voice whisper by her ear. Gone was the playful tone from his voice, replaced by a cautious warning to it. It chilled her in a not so unpleasant way, and the thought terrified Elsa to think that the sound of his voice had thrilled something inside of her. She bit her lip, fighting the tears upon realizing that she was discovered. It had only been days since she entered the Netherealm to do her mission, and she was instantly captured…

But then she realized that she was riding a black dragon… and there was only one black dragon known to have existed, which was said to have been killed by one of hell's most ruthless killers: the demon who killed the Son of Haddock…

She was riding on the legendary Night Fury. And the man above her was none other than the demon who was sent to kill it.

"Where are you taking me?" she managed to ask as the wind whipped viciously around them.

J ack only grunted in response. Soon they dove from the sky, into a far off place surrounded by mountains that glowed white against the night. They looked almost beautiful if not for the truth that it was a place found in enemy territory. No demonic presence occupied it, and Elsa guessed that this must have been this demon's lair. They descended into a deep pit, making her scream as everything around her blurred.

… … …

Elsa woke up, feeling soft silky sheets beneath her. Everything in her body seemed to ache, feeling a throbbing in her temples and a heaviness in her legs and her sight was still fogged with sleep. She briefly wondered if everything that happened had been just a dream, but she knew that the bed covered in black sheets weren't hers, and there was something about the chilly air that told her she was in a place that was nowhere near safe. She sat up and stretched her arms, feeling cold and bare as cool air greeted her skin…

And then she shrieked when she discovered that she was naked.

"Scream all you want. No one will hear you."

Elsa instantly pulled up the blankets to shield her bare form, finding the white haired demon leaning against the doorframe of the dimly lit room. His blue eyes glowed in the darkness, looking blank and vicious. His stance was casual, and this time he sported a silver chain around his neck and loose black pants, with strong arms folded loosely against his bare chest. Dread pooled in the angel's stomach as she registered the sight of his half-naked form.

"What did you do to me?!" she asked, her voice laced with fear and panic.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

Tears of rage stung at the corner of her eyes. The angel regarded herself, looking for bruises, for evidence of his violations on her body. She wanted to scream, to cry, to bury her face in her hands in shame. And that was what she exactly did.

Nothing was more humiliating than being defiled by your enemy. What would her parents say? What would Anna say? She'd be an object of disgrace in the heavenly realms. She'd be worthless. She'd be doomed to wander the unknown forever. She'd become fallen like the angels who rebelled against Tsar.

It was a fate worse than death.

"Save the tears, princess." Jack scoffed in irritation as he moved from his place. "I wish I could say we made love like wild animals, but that wasn't what happened. So shut up."

Elsa looked up and stared at him viciously.

"I'll be honest, I saw everything," Jack admitted shamelessly as he pulled open a drawer and grabbed a dark grey tunic. "But I wanted to see for myself if you really do have it."

He slipped the tunic over him then sat on her bedside. She scrambled away from him, her poise cautious and the blanket held protectively over her frame.

"You have The Sight." Jack said. It wasn't a question, but a confirmation. "I had to seal the marks in your body so that no one but I would be able to see it."

"Why?" Elsa asked him. "Why would you do that?"

Jack smirked. "If you bear The Sight, it only means that you're here to kill Lucien, am I right?"

Elsa looked taken aback, "But how did you—"

"Demon's aren't stupid," Jack interrupted her. He paused in thought then continued, "Well, those below the B class are. But everyone in the Netherealm knows that the one who possesses The Sight knows the answer to killing Lucien."

Elsa narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, "Then why would you help me then?"

"Because I want him dead." he answered, his voice laden with ice that it made the angel shiver.

She looked at him with genuine curiosity. This was new…

All throughout her life, she was taught that all demons bowed to Lucien's will. Even the mightiest of them heeded to his every beck and call, and here she was face to face with a demon who admitted to wanting their king dead. Was he meddling with her? Was he trying to gain her trust through deception?

She stared at him, tried to look beyond the determination in his eyes. This was a different man from the one who had violated with her before, like a side of him that was more honest than the evil picture he had presented to her earlier. By any circumstances, he could have raped her, killed her, or exposed her to Lucien the moment he found her. She could have fought back in fair battle, but demons were an unfair lot. He had every chance to do what he wanted to do with her in her sleep, and yet he had shown her the civility to give her privacy. He might have seen her nude, but she found no evidence of him touching her in ill manner. And now he claimed that he wanted their king dead. She could tell because of her Sight that he was speaking the truth.

But the question was why?

In spite of what she knew however, the guarded side of her had only warned her to be more careful around him.

"Are you… are you the demon who killed the Son of Haddock?" Elsa asked him, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jack regarded her with a blank expression before answering, "Yes."

A pause.

"We came here… on a black dragon." She murmured. "It was said that you were ordered to kill it… Why didn't you?"

Jack stared back at her for a few seconds until he stood up and walked towards the door.

"I burned your clothes," he said, changing the subject. "You'll find ones that might fit you on the top drawer. Meet me downstairs in five."

She blinked, "You burned my…"

The door shut with a soft click.

She sat on his bed stunned.

"…clothes."

She wanted to yell in indignation, but then again thought better of it. Elsa sensed the logic in what he did. He had to eliminate traces of her scent for her to survive the Netherealm. But then what was she supposed to wear?

She stood up, blanket wrapped protectively around her as she perused the drawers. All of the clothes were too large for her, and she settled for an off white tunic that covered her down to her thighs. Her face burned red as she found a few black boxers and thought twice about wearing one of them. But then again, she thought it was better than having to roam around a demon's lair without any undergarments.

Once clothed, she raked her hair with her fingers until they were tamed neatly to the side. Taking a deep breath, the angel studied the room she occupied. It was dim and murky, and nearly empty if not for the black bed, the drawers, and a chandelier of bones hanging above her. There were no windows, but frames hung by the walls that casted off faint blue light to illuminate the chambers. Elsa always thought that a demon's chambers would be more frightening than this, but then the moment the demon made no attempt to do anything horrid with her had already struck her as odd.

She didn't know how, but for now, she knew she could somehow trust this demon… for now. But just to be cautious, she murmured a spell of angelic tongue, a last resort that would summon a powerful blast of cold energy should he ever attempt to hurt her in a massive degree. And should he ever try to molest her again, she swore she'd make him regret ever touching a heavenly being in an unholy manner.

She left the room and trekked cautiously down the ivory stairs. The demon's lair was like that of a mansion in Fleurdelis, only that it looked more depressing in comparison. The ceilings were high, supported by buttresses, and chandeliers made of bones graced the center of the hall's ceiling. Tall, stained glass windows of dull hues were framed by dusty dark blue drapes. The faint light from the windows made the dust in the air sparkle like tiny snowflakes and even the gargoyle structures by the beams of the walls made the place look less hostile. Once again, such a place struck her as odd. Elsa didn't think that a demon's lair would look anything like this. Apart from her home, this was one of the most elegant sights she'd ever seen in her life. It was the only beautiful place she had found in the Netherealm.

It surprised her that she'd ever deem something in the dark realms as beautiful.

Somewhere from the large door to the left, Elsa heard a soft growl, almost a purr, echoing through the empty hall. She followed cautiously, her bare feet padding soundlessly against the chilly floor. A small hiss escaped her lips upon contact, the cold bothering her though it usually didn't. She rubbed her arms together and lightly pulled down on the hem of the tunic she borrowed, slightly annoyed that it barely covered her legs and it didn't give her enough warmth from the unnatural chill.

_But these would have to do, _she thought. If she was being honest with herself, she was grateful for the change of clothes as her old ones were already torn and nowhere near decent.

Upon entering the path through the door, Elsa realized that it led to a large dungeon. The purring sound became louder and she held back a gasp when she saw the white haired demon, laughing in a curiously boyish manner as he fed a large black dragon with slabs of white meat. She hid behind a stone pillar and spectated, awestruck at seeing an affectionate exchange between dragon and demon.

Taking a good look at the dragon, the angel discovered that it wasn't really as frightening as her imagination told her that it was. It had big green eyes and stubby limbs, and its teeth seemed to retract when in a light mood. Elsa thought it almost seemed kind of cute, comparing it to a large black kitty with scales and a pair of wings.

"You see this, big guy?" she heard him ask the beast as he held another slab of meat in front of the dragon. "This came from one of those shiny white moon fish I was telling you about."

The dragon snorted and sniffed at it playfully. It snapped its jaws, attempting to steal the meat from the demon, but failing.

"Ah-ah-ah!" the white haired demon scolded. "Say please."

The dragon growled. The demon laughed. The angel stared.

A breath escaped her lips quietly. The sight of the demon so uncannily happy with the black beast's presence almost made Elsa forget that demons were evil. Crazy as it may sound, there was a peculiar innocence in the laughs that reverberated from his chest as he reciprocated the dragon's affections with brotherly pats. The only time she'd heard a demon laugh, it usually was a cackle that chilled the bones and ignited fear and promise of death to its victims. But to hear him, chuckling like a regular teenage lad had Elsa thinking that the place wasn't the only thing that was odd about the Netherealm.

The demon himself was odd. And in Elsa's mental book, odd always equaled to suspiciously dangerous, no matter how innocent it seemed.

_And he's nowhere near innocent looking, _she thought wryly.

"I know you're there." Jack called out to her after feeding the dragon. "And it's already ten minutes. You're late."

The angel emerged from her hiding spot, looking at him cautiously with arms wrapped around herself. Jack raised a brow as he regarded her look from top to bottom, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he crossed his arms casually and leaned against a pillar beside him.

"You look incredibly sexy in my tunic, angel." Jack quipped. "Definitely a sight I'd like to see every day."

He took wicked satisfaction in seeing her blush and huff in annoyance.

"There were no other clothes that fit me well," she muttered under her breath. He noticed that her arms were protectively folded against her chest, and he raised an amused brow upon realizing that she wore no bra.

_Of course she wouldn't. You burned everything, remember? _He snickered in thought.

Without warning, the black dragon hopped to the angel's side, startling her as she took stumbling steps back and squeaked in surprise.

"Toothless," Jack warned the dragon with a glare. But the creature had downright ignored him. It placed its large head in between Elsa's arms and nuzzled her face. She visibly cringed at the contact, but was soon replaced with curiosity as she observed the dragon who showered her with affectionate attention.

"H-hi…" she greeted the creature uncertainly as she patted its scaly head with her dainty hands. She giggled as it blinked its large green eyes at her.

"Toothless, come here now." Jack nearly barked. The dragon listened to him this time, retreating to his side with an apologetic look. He forgave him by patting his head briefly before whispering something in demonic tongue as an order to dismiss the black beast.

Elsa realized she'd been holding back a breath as soon as the dragon retreated to its chambers.

"So that was the Night Fury…" she said, more to herself.

"The only demon that couldn't be controlled by Lucien." Jack murmured, loud enough for Elsa to hear. "That's why the damned king kept ordering demons around to find the beast and slay it before it gets even more powerful. A powerful creature that can't be controlled can lead to the royal family's doom."

Elsa stared at him, realization dawning on her. So that was why The Sight had been urging her to find him. He had protected the one thing that could definitely destroy Lucien.

"But why would a demon want to kill another demon?" Elsa wondered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Aren't demons supposed to protect their own kind?"

Jack smirked humorlessly. Why indeed? "It depends on how you define demons, angel."

She scrunched her brows. "Dragons fell along the angels who followed Lucien."

"Not all of them fell." He answered her. "One species stayed the neutral party."

"The Night Fury," the angel breathed. "So that's why…"

To the angel it made sense. The information must have been kept hidden to protect the creature's existence. Or so The Sight had deduced for her. Until the murder of the human family Haddock, not a thing has been known about the Night Fury.

The dragon might as well be the key to defeating Lucien.

"No angel or demon knows about this," the white haired demon went on. "I have nothing to prove that the Night Fury isn't a fallen being, but that's the only conclusion I could come up with on why Lucien wanted him dead. Any powerful creature that isn't for him is against him, and that dragon is just as strong as an experienced S class demon, and he's barely a century old. What more when he's to age centuries more?"

"They say a dragon's power grows with age." Elsa murmured. "I understand why the demon king would fear such a being…" She turned to the white haired demon and finally raised the question that's been bothering her since she came. "But why would you want to destroy your king?"

Jack nearly laughed at her question, but then again, it is a curious little thing for him to want to destroy his kind.

"Lucien is not my king," he answered her with a venomous smile.

Elsa narrowed her eyes at him accusingly. "So you want to usurp his throne then?"

This time, Jack laughed. And it wasn't his typical conceited laugh. It was a laugh that was hysterical and out of control, like he had found a terrible joke extremely funny. Elsa had to bite the inside of her cheek in irritation.

_He's not just odd. He's crazy._

When Jack had calmed down, he answered her with a deadpanned, "No."

"Then why do you want him dead?"

"Because I am sick and tired of demons," he answered her with ice in his tone. He stepped swiftly towards her, almost like a flash that Elsa had barely seen him move. She was backed up against the pillar behind her, eyes wide with dread at finding herself once again in this very compromising position.

If he was going to kiss him again, she'd make sure to kick him down there _harder_.

"Why?" she asked him again.

"Because it is true what you angels say," he hissed, angry sparks triggering within his steel blue resolve. "And as much as I hate to admit that you prude hooligans are right, it's true that demons _are_ worthless scum. We are nothing but pieces of a big mistake by that idiot you serve, and I want to put a stop to it with my own hands."

"You do _not _speak of Tsar that way!" Elsa growled angrily at him.

"Che—" he scoffed, pulling away from her as he took a step back.

Elsa regarded him for a moment, a pregnant silence ensuing as she watched him rearrange weapons on the racks situated on the walls.

The Sight told her there was more.

"You're guilty."

Jack froze.

"You're guilty that you killed an innocent man." Elsa stated, certain that she was correct. She trusted her strength. She trusted The Sight.

He was silent. He didn't confirm it. Nor did he deny it.

"You want to know why you've become part of the fallen." Elsa continued. "I assume you're not of the first generation of rebels."

He continued fixing his equipment, briefly wondering why he wasn't sending her away. He thought it was because he needed her for his plans. He needed her to keep Toothless safe. But part of him knew that it was because she was right, and he needed to know more…

"You want out… you've never wanted to serve a demon nor become one." She murmured. "You want to make amends."

"Are you finished?" he deadpanned.

Elsa paused, looking at him cautiously before saying, "You want atonement."

Jack stared back at her, then smirked.

"You may have The Sight, angel, but that doesn't give you the right to assume that you know me well."

"But I'm not wrong," she said, grinning triumphantly.

"Believe what you will." Jack answered her. "I don't care what you think of me, whether I'm a saint or sinner in your eyes or what not. My only concern is to keep Toothless safe until he's strong enough to help me kill Lucien. And I need a person with The Sight to help me see his weakness."

Jack took a staff with a curved end, almost like the one shepherds use. He pointed its tip to the floor and circled the room, creating a spell circle made of frost. The ice shifted across the floors in blue electric light, spreading in rivers of swirls and points. Elsa observed him warily, staying beside the ivory pillar as she waited.

"What are you doing?" she asked him finally when he finished.

"This is a marking spell." he answered her. "It's what demons use to mark territory, to ward off other creatures who'd want to claim it. It's usually used to mark places, but it can be used for beings as well."

There were warning bells ringing in the back of Elsa's mind. She took several steps back and tried to summon power in her fists while keeping an eye on the white haired demon.

"What are you going to use it on?" she asked, but she already knew the answer.

Jack smirked. "Not what. Who."

"You will _not _mark me!" she hissed as she backed away and raised her arms forward, the blue glow in her hands beaming threateningly.

Jack placed his hands on his hips and snorted. "If I don't mark you, then other demons will find you and they _will _kill you."

Elsa's eyes turned to slits as the glow in her hands gleamed brighter.

"Or, they might do something extremely worse, like turn you over to Lucien." he stated matter-of-factly.

"Why should I trust you?" she challenged him. "You're my enemy."

"Am I?" he asked her, his lips stretched into a crooked smile.

Was he the enemy? The angel's guard mildly faltered. She'd left the heavenly realms to find this man, to seek answers to her quest to save her world. Elsa knew trusting him was a dangerous gamble… and to be marked by him only meant that she would submit to his will, if only for a time. She'd become like the fallen, demons serving demons who have no will of their own. To be marked by him would protect her from other demons, but it would not protect her from him. Elsa would become his possession. An angel slave to a demon.

She placed a hand to the nape of her neck protectively. She had already sacrificed so much to fulfill her quest. If she would bind herself to him… she would lose whatever liberty she'd have left.

It would be like she'd sworn allegiance to him.

"How do I know you're not my enemy?" she asked him resignedly, dispelling her powers.

He grinned, "When all this is over, you have the glorious privilege of killing me yourself."

… … …

Her heart was beating fast. She was nervous.

If an angel had heard of what she was about to do, she would have been banished from the heavenly realms forever. But then, Elsa had already exiled herself by taking on the quest on her own.

Now she was to ally herself with a rank-A demon.

The process was simple, and not entirely as gruesome as she thought it would be. She was to stand at the circle within the circle, where the demon's power was to bind her temporarily. Once the incantation begun, she'd be rendered powerless and all of the seals in her body would open simultaneously in a gush of bright white light, releasing her inner powers save for The Sight. Her wings would unfurl, and the white demon would have to re-seal them with his own mark. The purpose was that only the demon who marked her would be able to open the seals for her use, and the marks on her body would become a branded proof that she was his property.

Yes it would be simple. But it didn't mean it wouldn't be painful.

What dreaded Elsa most of all was the way the marking spell would be completed. The final seal would be an intimate act for marking. For the seal to be powerful and believable, there must be an act that binds the host and the caster as closely as possible. The more intimate the act, the stronger the seal would be to ward off other demons.

"It'd be stronger if we'd have se—"

"NO!" she retorted furiously.

The demon snickered. "I was just kidding."

"I won't go through with this!" she complained angrily, stomping away from the inner circle. "What you're asking of me is—"

"Perverse? Disgusting? Horrible?" Jack raised a brow in amusement. "Usually women would want me to f*** them in a heartbeat."

"I'm not like your women, devil!" she hissed.

Jack shrugged, "Don't expect a strong seal if we hug, sweetheart. Demon's aren't the cheesy type."

The angel groaned, "Shut up!"

"You angels are so prude," he chuckled.

"We don't give ourselves freely like your whores, demon." Elsa spat, her cheeks burning red with anger and her arms wrapped protectively around her. "Our bodies are sacred. We give them to a person we want to be bound with for all eternity."

"And now, you are to bind yourself with me so—"

"This is different!" she argued. "That's it. I'm not going through with this."

Jack exhaled through his nose, exasperated with her stubbornness. "You were totally okay with smooching when I found you in Promiscuity."

"You caught me off guard!"

"You were pretty well-guarded, princess." he deadpanned.

"You—"

"Look, do you want my help or not?" Jack interrupted her, a vein popping by his temple. "You angels seriously can't take a joke. Do you think I'd want to be bound with an angel forever? I'm just as disgusted by this as you are!"

Elsa was taken aback by this. She would be lying if she said she wasn't insulted.

A bite to the neck would be strong enough to warn demons that they can't touch you, but it's not intimate enough for us to be bound together forever." he explained. "Once we kill Lucien, it's either I dissolve our contract or you kill me and the spell will be broken. Just consider it as a sacrifice for some divine calling s*** or whatever."

The angel pressed her lips together. Though she was doubtful, Elsa knew that this demon was willing to give up everything for this cause as much as her. Even without The Sight, she knew that his convictions are true. She saw it in his vicious blue eyes, the hatred pooling out from its dark depths. Along with hate was something that she was sure resembled guilt. He must have resented doing something, and it was an emotion she'd never thought she'd associate with a demon. She would use that emotion, use him, to fulfill her purpose.

Using each other was their mutual agreement.

She squared her shoulders, posing a calm demeanor although her heart beat loudly against her chest. If swallowing her pride was the price to pay to save the world, then it was a small price she was willing to pay. If losing a precious, innocent piece of herself was another price to pay to save the universe, then she would pay it gladly.

Even it hurt in so many levels that the demon wouldn't understand.

What was more to lose? She had already lost pieces of herself upon leaving her realm. She had lost a bigger piece when she yielded to his kisses. Elsa knew that the demon was right. She was now tainted in a way. She was no longer as pure as she believed herself to be.

She took small steps back within the frosted circle, hands held protectively over her chest. The cold stone floor made the soles of her feet numb, but she didn't care. She welcomed the sensation of the biting chill, if only to keep the shamed tears from falling down her cheeks. It was weakness to cry in this situation. She'd already lost much of her pride, and she wasn't willing to lose any more.

"Fine. Do it." she said. She had said it like she had declared suicide.

... … …

The lights of the dungeon dimmed. Only the light emanating from the spell circles gleamed in the darkness, covering angel and demon in an ethereal, ghostly glow. When Jack's lips moved as he uttered an incantation of demonic tongue, the strength from Elsa's body had left her, leaving her slightly suspended in the air. She felt exposed and helpless, feeling streams of energy moving from the core of her soul to every nerve-ending in her body. It was an alien sensation, much like lucid dreaming, but more peculiar in a way. She was conscious of her body, but she had no control. It frightened her, but her voice would not serve her to shout her protests.

"_I rise, Jackson Overland Frost of the Silver Hel, the third generation of the fallen," _he chanted, rivers of electric blue light cascading all over his body. _"I bind this creature to me, an angel of the heavenly realms as my servant, to heed to my every will, to answer my every beck and call, until I release her from her bonds, in life or in death…"_

He lifted his left hand towards the angel, whose wings now sprouted from her back in all its splendor. The energy inside the dungeon rippled in magnitude, making Jack stagger slightly from its intensity.

He realized that the angel was more powerful than he gave her credit for.

"_Servant, speak your name," _he ordered the angel.

"_Elsa, daughter of Uriel." _She responded while in trance.

Jack raised a brow, '_The daughter of Uriel?'_

"_As bonds are forged by blood, Elsa, daughter of Uriel, be bound to me in blood." _Jack took three steps forward until he was face to face with the angel. His right arm snaked around her waist, while his left hand softly cradled her head as he craned her neck for him to complete the seal.

"_So mote it be," _Elsa answered.

And he bit the nape of her neck.

… … …

It was painful. Excruciatingly painful.

Her wings retreated into her back, the beautiful marks of the angel tongue that sealed it replaced with Jack's seal. It forged with her skin until it turned invisible, burning into her like cold fire. As lightning strikes the open field, so did the light of the spell circle disappear in a flash of blue and white. The dungeon turned dark as her scream pierced through the walls in a horrible, horrible, horrible cry. She clung to the demon who caught her as her feet met the cold ground once again. There was no strength. Only pain, wariness, and the blood soaking the tunic she had borrowed.

But it wasn't the physical pain that came as an aftermath of the spell that made her cry helplessly like a child. Jack saw it when he leaned back and watched her, clinging to him, almost as if embracing him for dear life. The tears that ran down her cheeks belonged to a broken woman who was robbed of everything. He saw it in the eyes she'd squeezed shut, as if she was afraid of what she'd see. He heard it in the sorrow of her wails, as if a loved one had died.

There was no consolation for an angel who'd submitted to an enemy of her race. What she'd done… what he'd asked her to do, even if it was to protect her, was about the same as asking her to commit suicide.

"Shhhh…" he whispered by her ear. The hand that held her neck now caressed her platinum locks. The tenderness of the action surprised the both of them, but they'd set it aside for now.

It didn't matter to Elsa if the tenderness was false, or just an attempt to silence her. But she welcomed the comforting gesture. She welcomed the voice of her master who murmured soft hushes by her ear, even the kisses that followed on her temple, her cheeks, her lips.

"Shhh…" Jack murmured again. Now that she was bound to him, her scent had become more powerful to him. Or maybe it was their proximity that had caused it. Even though the angel was bound to him, her purity still seemed so powerful that it almost made him disgusted with himself.

This was a sickeningly familiar feeling. It was the same heaviness in his chest, the same guilt that haunted him when he killed the Son of Haddock.

He knew that he had stolen a very precious piece of the angel's heart.

"Elsa," he murmured, still caressing her hair, still within the circle of his embrace. "It'll all be over soon."

Both of them hoped that 'soon' would come sooner.

… … …

It had been three hundred years.

Elsa didn't think that her sanity survived in those arduous years. She thought that becoming bound to a demon would make her bitter all her life. She had decided that being his servant would destroy her, but apparently she had underestimated herself and her resilient nature.

Her first few years were torturous. She was to act like his maidservant, cleaning his lair, running his menial errands, cooking his meals, among others. Other times, his orders were ridiculous, like having her stand on one foot for four hours, or have her forced to watch demons killing each other on his scrying glass. The worst was when she was ordered to clean Toothless' dungeon, something that she knew she would never enjoy doing, ever.

Strangely, Jack never punished her harshly when she tried to defy him, even when he had the very power to do so. The only punishment she'd ever had from him was that she was refused of her meals, and that was that.

In those three centuries, Elsa had become Jack's assistant in killing demons. Were it not for the fact that demons were their victims, Elsa would have resented the act. In spite of their nature in killing demons, angels hated the act of killing itself. It was the reason why they ended their enemy's lives swiftly. It was the mercy they bestowed upon demons that fell by their hand.

In the first hundred years that she accompanied Jack, he'd slaughtered their enemies in a rhythm that was swift and clean. But the following decades, her master's methods of murder had turned crueler. It began when stories of genocide occurred in the human realm, resulting to thousands and thousands of deaths, mostly children. Most of the stories of these humans' deaths were as gruesome as the way Jack killed his prey. One event had made her vomit, when she saw him pierce a lance through a B class Baphomet's mouth, and chopped its limbs with his sword to feed it to a swarm of giant locusts. He had killed the locusts with his fire, and shoved its remains down a she-devil's throat before killing the demon with his ice magic. Blood spurted all over the place like a fountain, coating his body in inky red.

He had done it all in one fell swoop, and replaying the memory in her head still left her gagging and baffled.

But it made her equally curious

In those years, she had also discovered a side of Jack that she'd never hope to see in a demon. She saw this mostly when he'd step into the dungeon in the lower levels of his lair when training with Toothless. His smiles and laughs were genuinely happy, and he'd acted like he'd never harmed a soul in his life. She saw it when they spotted a child nearing death when they entered the human realm on a winter evening, and he had gazed upon the child from afar with a solemn expression. She saw it when he was asleep in the days they had camped out, when he would snore softly as if he didn't have a care in the world. . Though he'd never admit it, Elsa discovered that Jack had a soft spot for human children. She'd doubted it the first fifty years of accompanying him on his travels. But little by little, she could see that he valued them in his own sick way.

His own sick way was the way he destroyed the demons who ever messed with them.

There were also some nights when he'd hear him scream in his chambers. Spiritual beings didn't need to sleep, but to do so was a luxury to them. In the times that Jack had slept though, there were occasions when she'd hear him mumbling in some unknown tongue. Because she was bound to him, she could sense if something was wrong, and in those times, she discovered that demons were also capable of having nightmares.

But then again, she'd always known that demons were cursed to have nightmares in their sleep. What she wanted to know was what terrified him in those dreams.

"I'm sorry…" she had heard him mumble one night. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

It was the only part of his mumbling that she understood.

Three hundred years, and she still couldn't figure him out.

Her conversations with Jack often lead to heated arguments or discussions about visions she'd seen through The Sight. Ever since she found Jack and Toothless, the visions had changed. She'd seen a pair of wings, one white and the other black, and when Jack demanded an explanation, she'd answer that she didn't know. It aggravated him, and it annoyed her to no end.

The change in her visons was another puzzle piece to defeating Lucien that they'd have to answer. Since she found no reliable interpretation to her vision, the only option they had for the meantime was to train the black dragon. The more Toothless grew in power, the greater chance they had in defeating the demon king.

Even though she was doing her very best training the beast, it still didn't give her the treatment she wished she deserved from Jack. Apart from training sessions with Toothless, she'd never had a civilized conversation with her master.

Other times it was him being his annoyingly perverted-self teasing her until she'd wished she could strangle him to death. She detested Jack for how he'd insist she wear demon apparel. He always argued that 'less is more', and the more slutty she dressed, the less demons would suspect that she was an angel.

That was his only order she readily disobeyed.

But then she had noticed that he'd only want her to dress as such in his presence. He nearly chopped the head off of a demon when it tried to grope her.

Like right now.

"Stay calm," Elsa reminded herself in a whisper, a vein threatening to pop in her head. "Think happy thoughts."

A chorus of baritone chortles reverberated through the bar filled with demons of every kind. Loud music blasted through hive holes in the ceilings, and the bar's walls were made of slimy red-black tissue glistening with some sticky saliva that dripped from the corners. It would have been pretty were it not for the fact that it was a demon's slaver. It smelled like bile and blood, and it made her stomach churn.

A crowd of devils grinded against each other in the dance floor, strobe lights flashing from who knows where. Sparks danced off their sweat-slicked skins, twinkling in time with the sensuous chime of the pounding music. By the bar stool sat Jack and a few other demons who'd been ogling at harpies that danced in the air. Elsa dared not look.

"Lemme see more of that junk—woah! That's what I'm talking about!"

"The red-headed bitch is mine!"

"Oh f*** off Marconi!"

"Hah! Your man stick is too small for that chick. Pick on someone your own size like tha' harpy over there!"

"Look at all them boobies!"

Even though they were female, she detested seeing them and their bare chests for everyone to see. But the perverted remarks from Jack and his… drinking companions were much, much, much worse.

Jack had been down to his tenth bottle of scorpion beer. Because she was bound to him, she could smell him above all the reeking stench in the crowded room. If she could, she would have smashed the bottles in the bar stool and dragged him out of there, and probably give him a lecture on how drunkenness was sinful and horrible.

But you can't tell a demon that. It was their nature to be sinful and horrible.

"Hey Elsa!" Jack barked at her while smashing a glass across the floor as he laughed. Though he sounded drunk, Elsa knew better that he was completely sober. "Get your ass over here! We gotta go!"

Three hundred years and she still wasn't used to the demon world. True to her angelic nature, she detested it with every fiber of her being.

On her way to her master, she was stopped by another demon. Unlike the others who looked monstrous or animalistic, this one was much like Jack, human in form but definitely demonic. A tall handsome man with brown hair and a goatee, and he wore a leather vest and dark pants and boots. There were markings in his arms, and Elsa guessed they were seals that hid different weapons. A Tormenter, Elsa figured, for Jack had mentioned that demons with such markings were identified as such.

"Hey," the demon greeted her, eyes looking at her with impish desire. "How're you doing?"

Elsa narrowed her eyes. This was wrong. Another demon isn't supposed to want her because of Jack's mark on her. It wouldn't be possible unless…

Her eyes widened with dread as a sickening feeling churned within her stomach.

"The name's Flynn Rider," the demon introduced himself.

"My master is calling me," she told him uneasily, her eyes avoiding his. She went past him until he caught her by the arm.

"Come on," he cooed. "Why in such a hurry?" He bent down and sniffed her.

_No…_

The demon's eyes went wide, and his lips curled into a malicious smile.

"You smell mouthwatering baby girl," he murmured against her neck. "What kind of demon are you?"

Alarm bells rang in her mind. Flynn Rider was a rank-A demon… the same class as Jack.

Which meant he was powerful enough to detect her true identity.

"F*** off Rider!"

It was Jack. For once in her life, she was relieved that he had come to her rescue.

The brown-haired demon turned to him with a smirk. The presence of the Winter Plague didn't faze him, and he proved this by snaking an arm around Elsa's waist to press her flush against him. Jack snarled, his pupils dilating into slits as power crackled through his skin.

"Why so possessive Frost?" Flynn taunted him, ignoring Elsa who tried to push herself away. "I thought we agreed on sharing whores. Remember the summer of 82?"

Jack smirked humorlessly, eyes still slanted with killing intent. "I only share when it's worth throwing away, Rider. Now f*** off."

The Tormentor ignored him, choosing to whiff along Elsa's neck instead. "She smells so damned good…"

Elsa cringed. She was very well capable of defending herself…. But if she used her powers, she'd be discovered.

It would be more dangerous than having been groped by a demon. But it still angered her to be helpless.

She felt herself yanked away from Flynn abruptly, barely having the time to register Jack's lips covering hers. His wet tongue that tasted of alcohol invaded her mouth roughly, and warmth sizzled through her skin that had nothing to do with the way he was kissing her.

The warmth that traveled her skin was a trigger. A reaction that exposed Jack's markings on her skin. A pattern of electric blue swirls danced on the skin left exposed by her skimpy black bolero and shorts. But that wasn't what bothered Elsa.

What bothered her was the way Jack had kissed her so licentiously, so lasciviously, that their little show made demon heads turn their way in lustful fascination. The way he forced a moan out of her by biting her lip and running his hands all over her body made her cringe with disgust, coupled by the humiliation of having been seen by a crowd of devils who were clearly aroused by their public display.

It had become more demeaning when their lips separated with a loud pop before she had the chance to push him away. It made her look dazed by the kiss when in truth she wasn't. It had made her look weak.

It had made her look like a wanton in the eyes of her enemies.

Flynn raised his brows and chuckled, "Whoah."

"She is _mine." _Jack nearly roared, his eyes warning not only Flynn, but every other demon inside the bar, that he would destroy anyone who ever dared touch his property.

The brown haired demon snorted, "Alright, alright. You proved your point." And then he turned away, grumbling about how Jack Frost was such a killjoy.

Elsa had wanted to storm out of there, but her master had beat her to it. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the bar wordlessly and ruthlessly. It was time for them to go home.

But Elsa had no home in the dark realms. Only the prison that was Jack Frost.

… … …

They'd reached Jack's lair in only a few hours. They hadn't spoken a word to each other since they came as Elsa quickly went to her room for a change of less revealing clothes. Jack had proceeded to the dungeon to feed Toothless, and the following hours were quiet.

Jack was still pissed. He was tempted to hunt Flynn Rider down for touching what was his.

He couldn't explain it, but he felt an urge to kill that was as wild as his hatred for seeing tortured human children when he saw Flynn touch Elsa. It made the blood in his veins boil with rage, and he didn't even care if people discovered that he was the one responsible murdering the higher up demons that moment.

He was so mad he could murder an entire army.

Jack always knew that he was possessive. What he didn't know was he'd have the intensity of possessiveness that he'd had with Elsa. He'd always known that he was protective of her in the same way he was protective of Toothless. He needed the both of them to fulfill his goal of killing Lucien.

He had kissed Elsa to prove a point. It was a defensive mechanism to protect the both of them, to protect his cover and to protect her identity.

But the rage in him had him doubting his own intentions.

_What's wrong? _Jack asked himself. _What's wrong with me?_

He cursed the Son of Haddock. It was because of him that he had known what _'caring' _was about.

_So I care about the angel too now? _Jack thought wryly. _First the dragon, and now an angel. Can you believe it?_

Jack decided he was a freak of demon nature.

"Elsa!" he called out to here. "Come here now."

He had to see her. Elsa was the only one who calmed his nerves. He didn't know why, but it started during those nights when he had dreams of that night he killed Toothless' previous master. She had come into his chambers quietly, and sung him songs in angelic tongue. He admitted to himself that he loved her voice, because it was the only piece of heaven he had ever experienced.

Those nights she came to sing to him, he had begun imagining what heaven was like. Many nights after, he likened heaven to be like her songs… soothing and peaceful and carefree.

The angel's presence in his lair brought him a little piece of heaven. It took away other forms of demons, like his anger, like his guilt.

Elsa was his little piece of heaven.

"Elsa!" he called for her again, sounding angry this time.

He turned to the door and found Elsa there, a blank expression on her face as she walked towards him. He paused, slightly confused on why the usual fire in her eyes was muted to a dull hue.

"Take it off." She mumbled.

"What?"

"Your mark," Elsa said more clearly. "I want you to take it off."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Her response was instant, fire igniting her eyes as she yelled in indignation.

"Because I _don't want you touching me again!" _she cried angrily, her eyes shining with power and unshed tears.

He scoffed. "Are you so disgusted by me that you want out of this contract so soon?"

"YES! YES I AM!" she yelled at him with all the pent up frustration of the three hundred years she'd been his slave. "I am disgusted by you! I am disgusted by _all of you!"_

She was crying. This was the first time Jack had seen her cry since he'd met her. It was a cry of anger and humiliation and downright frustration, and a sudden pang of guilt sliced through his chest at the sight of it. He took conscious steps forward, hands carefully reaching out to her. But she took this as hostility as she took several steps back while maintaining a fierce glare.

"You will _not _touch me again!" she yelled. "You will not! You will not! YOU WILL NOT!"

Elsa struck him with her powers, but the spell that she was bound with prevented her from harming him even with her magic. Frustrated, she struck a gargoyle behind him and wept bitterly. Jack realized she was fed up with the way he was treating her, and that scene at the bar had went past the breaking point of her patience.

The demon of guilt had once again crept its way into his heart. The fact that he was consumed by it was a problem in its own.

He was turning soft.

"What about Lucien?" he asked her. "Will you cast aside your mission just because you're bitching about me kissing you?"

"You don't get it!" she yelled at him. "You demons don't get it! You will never understand!"

"Understand what?"

"You've stolen my eternity, Jack!" she answered him angrily, rubbing her tears furiously. "What you demons throw away like rags are precious to me! My dignity, my innocence, the kisses I promised my sister to save for the angel I'll marry are the only things I have that reminds me of who I am! I've given up everything… _everything _to protect my family, to protect my world, to protect the human race, and _you've _taken the only things that remind me that I'm still me!" She hiccupped, taking a deep breath. "But now… now you've robbed me of my pride. You took my liberty and you've tainted me with your demonic scum! I can never show my face to my family again after this is over… I've lost my honor…. I've lost... I've lost…"

She was wrong, Jack thought. As he watched her weep into her hands, Jack knew she was wrong about what she said, about not understanding.

Jack understood how prudence meant a lot to her race. He knew how much she valued purity, and grace, and innocence and liberty and love. Such things were beautiful…

He knows because he saw those things in her. He understood.

And he had taken them away.

He walked swiftly towards her, and to both of their surprise, Jack had enveloped her into an embrace, much like the time they first made their contract.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "I'm sorry," he kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry," he kissed her nose. "I'm sorry," he kissed her lips.

He showered her with kisses and apologies. He had never done this to her since the day he met her. He had never done this to anyone, even to the women he had kissed before. He had never shown such tenderness or care, or sweetness or gentleness.

Only with this angel. Only with her.

"Stop," Elsa whispered as she closed her eyes. Her knees felt weak as she clung to him. His tenderness had mad her vulnerable, his apologies more so. "Please stop."

He didn't stop.

He kissed her slowly, tenderly, wrapping his arms around her with so much care, fearing she'd break. She responded, the same way she did when she first met him in that alley in Promiscuity. But in comparison, something about this kiss was more intimate, deeper, something that had more depth than just fleshly passion.

"Then stop me," he murmured in between kisses. "Kill me this instant."

She whimpered, "No… I can't."

He kissed her longer this time, harder, but maintaining the gentleness he knew she deserved. "You can."

"No."

"You want out remeber?"

She replied by kissing him back, the tears in her eyes disappearing.

"No," she replied breathlessly.

He claimed her lips again, his soul drowning in euphoria.

When he leaned back to break the kiss and look at her eyes, he saw something that he'd never think he'd see in Elsa.

Desire.

No… something deeper.

All restraint he had kept the moment he laid eyes on her from three centuries ago crumbled into dust.

He kissed her again... And again... And again...

"Jack,"

"Shhh..."

"Mmm.."

And again... And again... And again...

He couldn't get enough of her.

He gathered her in his arms and took her to his chambers. Throughout, he never stopped kissing her, never stopped murmuring apologies, never stopped holding her with his uncharacteristic tenderness.

He ignored the vases he broke, he ignored the doors he'd shattered open. His sole attention was on the weight he'd carried in his arms.

His sole attention was on her, his little piece of heaven.

"It'll be over soon," he promised, planting his lips on hers more throroughly.

What in hell's name had gotten over him?

… … …

**A/N: **I am blushing furiously in embarrassment as I end this chapter. (./.)

_May the Fortress be with you…_


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